All We Are, We Are
by alynwa
Summary: Two months after his father's death, Alan makes a shocking discovery.
1. Chapter 1

It had been two months since Gowan Shore had died. Alan Shore had returned to his normal routine fairly quickly after he had scattered his father's ashes in the backyard of his home. The only thing Denny noticed out of the ordinary was that Alan was more inclined to have sleepovers; in fact, he had been staying with Denny at his pied – a – Terre in town and his suburban home on the weekends almost constantly. Not that he minded, of course. He liked the idea of the man he considered "a comfort" obviously thinking of him the same way.

The last walkthrough they had done of Alan's childhood home had yielded a banker's box in the garage that they had somehow overlooked. Denny had offered to keep it at his house until Alan was ready to peruse its contents. This particular Sunday, Alan had pulled the box out of the storage closet Rodeo had put it in and taken it to the den to go through it.

Denny checked his watch and saw that it had been more than two hours since Alan had closed the door behind him. _I thought he would have been finished by now, _he thought. He waited another twenty minutes or so and decided to go check on the younger man.

He knocked softly on the door and when he got no answer, he knocked a bit louder. When he still got no answer, he decided to just enter. _He might have fallen asleep._

Instead of finding a dozing man in an easy chair, he saw that Alan was awake and holding a piece of paper in his hand as he appeared lost in thought. "Alan? Are you okay? I thought you would have been finished by now," Denny said by way of announcing himself.

"I don't know, Denny. I don't know anything anymore."

Confused, Denny moved closer so he could see Alan's face and was shocked to see his expression. He looked lost. He sat in the chair next to his friend and said, "Alan, what's the matter? What's that paper you're holding?"

Alan flicked it in his direction and he grabbed hold. It was a handwritten note and he read it aloud. "To Whom It May Concern: Gowan Shore has raised my son Alan since he was two years old. He considers him his son and Alan has gone by the last name of Shore since I married Gowan Shore." Denny exhaled loudly. "Is this saying what I think it's saying?"

"It is. Gowan Shore is not my biological father. That's my mother's handwriting. My whole life has been a lie."

Denny was stunned. "I, I don't know what to say. Tell me what you're feeling."

Alan shook his head. "I don't know what I'm feeling. My mind is swirling. Denny, maybe I'm the reason their marriage was what it was. Maybe it's my fault that he drank and made my mother and me miserable! I was an only child; maybe he was fine with marrying my mother at first, but as time went by and they didn't conceive, he came to resent me.

"You can't know that, Alan!" Denny exclaimed.

"Think about it, Denny. I was the living proof that my mother was fertile, so the fact that no children were forthcoming pointed to him as being the sterile one. No man wants to think he can't father children. He and my mother would get into these horrible shouting matches. Sometimes, he would storm out and be gone for hours, days even. He'd always come back though and for a few days, there would be some semblance of peace until the next thing that would set him off into a rage." He fell silent again and shook his head.

Denny checked his watch and noted it was two – fifty. _Close enough, _he thought as he went to the bar and poured scotch into two glasses. Walking back, he handed one to Alan, raised his glass in a salute and took a sip.

"Thanks," Alan said before swallowing half the glass' content. "Wow," he said after a few moments of silence as realization hit him, "Denny, this means that my Uncle Scott and my Uncle Aaron are not my uncles! Their children are not my cousins! The little bit of family I thought I had isn't mine! None of them were particularly close to me; they had to have known I wasn't my father's son!"

"I'm sorry, Alan."

"I know you are and please don't take this the wrong way, but I want to be alone now. I'm going to take a walk down by the stream. I'll see you later."

Denny watched him refill his glass and leave the room. He sat back in his chair, took in another mouthful of scotch and thought about the situation. The dislike he had felt towards Alan's parents based on the stories he'd heard from the younger man came back with a vengeance. _Even dead, these people keep hurting him!_ _I have to do something to help him, but what?_ He grabbed both arms of his chair and swung himself up to a standing position.

He walked into the kitchen to out the door that opened to the backyard. Silently, he watched Alan sit on the bench next to the stream and put his head in his hands. It distressed him greatly that once again, Alan was suffering at the hands of the very people who should have loved him. An idea occurred to him then that he hoped would be the answer that would lift Alan's spirits. _That's it!_, he said to himself as he hustled back to the den and grabbed a pen and pad from the desk. _I don't want the Mad Cow make me forget,_ he thought as he scribbled his idea on the pad. Ripping the sheet off, he folded it in half and placed it in his briefcase. _I'll take care of it first thing in the morning._


	2. Chapter 2

That Monday, Dave the chauffer dropped his boss Denny and his friend Alan Shore in front of the Crane Poole and Schmidt building just after seven AM. Alan had prep work to do before his appearance in Judge Brown's court at ten and Denny had told him that he wanted to meet with his assistant to go over some things.

When they stepped off the elevator on the fourteenth floor, they went to the galley to get coffee and pastries. Denny had balanced his bear claw on his coffee lid and said, "I'll see you later, Alan. Mandy and I have several things to discuss," before turning and heading to his office.

Alan shrugged his shoulders and said, "Okay, see you later!" to Denny's retreating back. He had kind of wanted to have some company, but it was fine. He knew, if nothing else, he would see his best friend on the balcony in the evening. Before he could give it any more thought, Jerry Espenson came around the corner and insisted they figure out their approach to the case before facing the befuddled little man Denny had once called to his face a "namby-pamby."

From that moment on, Alan's day took off like a rocket on the Fourth of July. Court all morning and most of the afternoon followed by client meetings and phone conversations to try to drum up new business and apprise other clients of the status of their cases. Alan had managed to eat an energy bar between meetings sometime after two PM and by the time his stomach began to growl in hungry protest, he was astonished to see that it was after six. He felt exhausted, but in a good way. He had accomplished quite a bit and felt proud. Now that his workday was basically over, the gloom that had settled over him from the moment he found out Gowan Shore was not his father began creeping its way back to him. Determined to keep it as far away as possible, he headed to Denny's office to join him on the balcony.

He saw Denny sitting outside as soon as he entered the room. Grabbing a cigar from the humidor, he clipped the end before sticking it in his mouth and stepping through the door into the humid summer Boston air. He sat, struck a match and then held it under his stogie as his puffed away until it was lit properly. He then poured himself a proper drink from the decanter on the table between their chairs. He completed his ritual by blowing several smoke rings and taking a large sip of the amber liquid. Content, he leaned back in his chair and asked, "How was your day, Denny?"

The older man smiled. "It was pretty productive," he said. "I managed to piss Carl off before eleven, schmoozed three of our oldest clients into thinking I still actually do the work on their accounts _and_ got to read most of the latest issue of Big Beautiful Breasts magazine! Oh, and I ordered something for you. I'm having it delivered to my house. It should be here by next week."

Intrigued, Alan leaned toward Denny. "You bought me a gift? What is it?"

"Just something I thought you might appreciate. You'll see when it comes."

"You're not even going to give me a hint?"

"Nope, and you know I can keep a secret, so there's no one you can ask. Denny Crane!" He puffed on his cigar and chuckled in amusement at the look on his friend's face. "Don't worry, you'll like it."

"I'm not worried," Alan retorted. _I wonder if I should be worried?_

_Almost two weeks later…_

"Hey, Denny, I was just reading this article…What is that?" Alan had been reading the Sunday Boston Globe on Denny's bedroom balcony when Denny stepped out holding what appeared to be a six-inch-long plastic tube.

"This is what I ordered for you! It came yesterday!"

Alan took it gingerly and examined it. "Um, thank you? What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Spit in it!"

"Excuse me?"

"See that line right there? Spit in the tube and keep spitting until it reaches that line. Then close that lid and give it back to me."

_Oh, no._ "Denny, this is a DNA kit? You ordered me a _DNA kit?_'

"I did," the older man answered proudly. "I'm glad that awful man isn't your father! From everything you've told me about him and the despicable way he treated you, you should be glad, too! I mean, yes, your mother could have handled things better; maybe you should have been told, but here we are. I've been trying for three days to figure out a way to break this to you so you'd do it, but I got nothing. So, just spit in the tube and I'll take care of everything else. Come on, maybe we'll find out you're part Puerto Rican or something!"

Alan cracked up at that. "Denny, I wish I were, but I doubt it! Fine, I'll spit, but do me a favor: Go inside out of this heat. I'll come in as soon as I finish my assignment," he said as he gazed at the tube. "I don't want to appear vulgar in front of you."

Ten minutes later, he handed the now – filled tube to his best friend. "Okay? I did it. That is pure, one hundred percent Alan Sh…Well, _Alan _DNA, anyway. What happens now?"

"Now, you leave everything to me, Denny Crane! We should hear something in a couple of months. I'm starving! Olympia is holding brunch until we're ready to eat."

"I'm going to take a shower and get dressed, so why don't you head down? I'll be there in about fifteen minutes."

As he walked downstairs, Denny faltered slightly as a thought occurred to him. _I saw Gowan Shore's body at the morgue and Alan does look like him!* How is that possible? _He dismissed the thought with a wave of his hand. _I bet I know what's going on; Alan's mother wrote that note and probably threatened Gowan with it after a fight. They both seemed to be very vindictive people and I can see her telling her husband she would make their son believe he was not his father's child. Jeez, that would mean Alan is Gowan's son, after all. Whatever, we'll both have answers soon._

*ref. my tale "Honor Thy Father"


	3. Chapter 3

Alan was practicing his opening statement in his office when the buzzer on his intercom sounded. "Melissa, this is not a good time…Okay, okay, put Denny through."

A moment later, Denny's voice came through the speaker. "Alan, the test results came! Come to my office so we can look at them!"

"_What _test results?"

"The DNA results! Remember I mailed your spit off to the lab almost two months ago? I just got the results!"

"Oh. Well, now is not a good time; I'm due in court in forty – five minutes and then I have meetings lined up into late evening. Wait a minute. Did you have the results mailed here where any of the secretaries could have opened them?"

An exasperated _huff_ exploded from the phone. "Of course not! I have Mad Cow, not Stupid Cow! The results were emailed to my personal email account!"

Alan hadn't realized he had tensed his shoulders until he let out a sigh of relief and they dropped. "Good, thank you. I don't think you're stupid, Denny. It's just that I don't want anyone at the firm to know about this, it's embarrassing."

"You have nothing to be embarrassed about! You were a child! So, you can't come look now. Do you mind if _I_ look?"

Alan had to smile at that. "The suspense is killing you, isn't it?" he chuckled. "All right, knock yourself out. I probably won't see you until Balcony Time. You can tell me the highlights of the report then. I'll talk to you later, Denny. I have to finish preparing for court." A click was his answer. As he reached for his jacket he thought, _He's probably going through it with a fine – tooth comb right now!_

Denny was so excited that he had Alan's permission to peruse the report because of course, he had already started reading it. He had been surprised to discover that it wasn't one report, but rather a series of reports on things like Alan's genetic traits, health predispositions and carrier status in addition to his ancestry. He was finding the entire read fascinating. He made note of the things he would have Alan ask about during his next physical exam.

Finally, he opened the screens that revealed people who shared DNA with Alan, his so – called DNA relatives. He was hoping that someone registered with the service might be a close match to Alan and could give him some insight into his family background. Some of the people just had their names listed while others had a profile picture. Two names stood out immediately, only one had a profile picture. It wasn't the fact that they were there that shocked Denny, it was their relationships to Alan that made his eyes widen. _Oh, my God, I don't believe it. _

Denny went out on the balcony that evening and poured himself a stiff drink. He had decided that some liquid courage was the way to go. He took a deep draw of his scotch, coughing slightly after swallowing. He leaned back and mentally followed the trail of warmth down his throat and into his belly. Satisfied that it made it safely, he took another deep drink, closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the city. He heard a knock on his office's door frame and knew it was his best friend. "I'm out here! Bring me a stogie, will you please?"

Moments later, he took the cigar Alan offered him and used the lighter on the small Parsons table between their chairs to light it. When the ash was the way he liked it, he passed the lighter to the younger man.

"Thanks," Alan said before igniting his own cigar. "I'm a little surprised to see that your computer is off. I thought we were going to go over the results of my DNA testing."

"I thought about what you said about not wanting people here to know. You know with our glass walls; the walls have eyes. I'm staying at my condo tonight, so I figured we'd look at the reports there where no one can spy over our shoulders. I assume you're staying with me?"

"Yes, if you don't mind and what do you mean, reports? It's not just one?"

"Oh, it's several reports. Did you know that you are genetically predisposed to noticing your urine smells different after you eat asparagus?"

Alan pulled his cigar from his mouth and stared. "It says that? What else does it say?"

"Many things. I have a suggestion: Let's go to Legal Seafood for dinner and then head to the condo."

"Sure, though I would have thought you would have wanted to order takeout so I can look at the report while we eat."

Denny let the lie roll off his tongue easily. "I am in the mood for steak and lobster and I want to savor it, not be rushing to get it home before it cools off too much. The reports will be there when we get back."

Denny was actually hoping that the restaurant would be so crowded they would have to wait at the bar for a table, but they were seated as soon as they entered. He swore their service had never been better; they didn't have to wait long for anything. He paid the bill and said to Alan, "Would you like to stop at the bar for a nightcap?"

"No, I would like to go to your place and look at my DNA results while drinking a nightcap. What is going on with you, Denny? Do you not want me to see my test results?"

"Don't be silly, I was the one who talked you into doing it. Why wouldn't I want you to look at them?"

After the chauffeur dropped them in front of Denny's building, they rode the elevator in companionable silence, or so Alan thought. Denny was wondering if he should spill a drink on his laptop to short circuit it.

He unlocked the door and gestured for Alan to enter first. "Let's get into our pajamas and get comfortable."

"Good idea."

Alan sat at the desk and opened Denny's laptop while Denny pulled up a chair alongside him. Alan was privy to all Denny's passwords so he quickly opened Denny's email account and then the email from the lab. Clicking on the link provided, he signed in using the password Denny gave him. Looking at the breakdown of his ancestry he remarked, "No surprises here, Denny. I'm almost completely Scots/Irish, with some British Isles thrown in and hey, I have a touch of Neanderthal, too. That explains a lot."

He was just as fascinated with the reports on his predisposition as Denny had been and discussed with Denny how right or wrong, he thought the findings were. Finally, he opened the final report that spoke of people who shared his DNA. He read it twice and turned to the older man. "You saw this earlier, didn't you?"

"Yes, but I didn't know what to say to you. Frankly, I still don't."

Alan was so shocked; he could only stare at the screen. _Aaron and Scott Shore are my _half – brothers? _That would make their kids my nieces and nephews! That means that Gowan Shore was my…"_ Oh, my God," he groaned as he put his head in his hands, "Gowan Shore was my _brother_! Oh, my God, oh my _God_!"

He pushed back from the desk like it had electrocuted him. "I can't, I can't with this, this is too much, I can't take anymore!"

Denny had stood and now pulled Alan up into a hug. "Yes, you can. You're all right, Denny's here. It's okay." He kept repeating it, hoping the words were getting through to the younger man. "I think we should go to bed. Come on, let's go."

Alan allowed himself to be led to the bedroom. Denny walked him to his side of the king – sized bed and watched as he took off his robe, kicked off his slippers and got in bed. Only then did Denny go around to his side and got in after removing his robe and slippers.

He slid toward the bed's center and waited for Alan to join him. "You don't have to talk about it, Alan. I'm so sorry about all this madness. I'm calling us both out sick tomorrow so we can find out what the hell is happening with this. It will be okay." The only response he got was Alan tightening his grip on him. He, in turn, tightened his hold on Alan. "I've got you," he whispered, "No matter what happens, I've got you, Alan. I love you."

"That's the only thing I know for sure. I love you, too. See you in the morning." 


	4. Chapter 4

Alan awoke the next morning just before five. He was still resting his head on Denny's chest who was snoring softly, making those slightly pig – sounding noises that Alan usually found comforting. He was about to doze back off when the memories of what he had read the night before reared their heads. _I was hoping I had dreamt that, but I didn't. It's real._

He carefully moved away from the still snoring older man and headed to the bathroom. When he returned, Denny had awakened and put his arms behind his head so he could see Alan, who had sat at the end of the bed, clearly. "Good morning. You don't have to get up so early, remember I said I was calling out for both of us today."

"Morning, Denny," Alan answered without turning around. "You might as well go into the office. I'm going to go speak with my…_brother_ Aaron to find out what he knows and whatever that is, I'm fairly certain he won't discuss it in front of you, so I'll be going alone. He's retired and he's pretty much a homebody. His wife is fifteen years younger than he is so she's still working."

"I'm sure you're right, but you're going to need me at some point today and I am going to be there for you." Denny hauled himself up so that he was leaning against the headboard. "I'm going to pee first, though."

Alan felt the bed rise as Denny got up and headed to the bathroom. From the sounds emanating from there, he knew that Denny had decided to shower and brush his teeth, too. He sighed and padded off to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee and see what was in there to fix for breakfast.

When Denny walked in clean shaven and dressed, he was happy to see breakfast on the table. "Wow, waffles, sausages and scrambled eggs! You went all out!"

"Putting frozen waffles in the toaster and frozen sausages in the microwave for thirty seconds hardly qualifies as 'all out,' Denny."

"True, but you did scramble the eggs." Denny pour himself a cup of coffee before sitting down. "So, what's the plan?"

"I'm calling Aaron to tell him I'm coming over around ten – thirty and I'll just see what he tells me. What I do next will depend on whatever he says. Not much of a plan, but it's all I've got."

"Okay, here's _my_ plan: You eat breakfast, shower, dress while I call Dave to come get us. He'll drop me off at the house and then take you where you have to go. Whenever you finish what you're doing, he'll bring you to the house. Okay?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No, not really."

"I didn't think so."

Alan was sitting in the back seat of Denny's limousine as Dave drove it towards Jamaica Plain, the town where Aaron Shore lived. Aaron had asked what he wanted to speak to him about and Alan had told him he really needed to have this conversation face to face.

When they arrived in Jamaica Plain, Alan had Dave drop him off a block away from the house at a coffee shop and told him to wait for him there. He walked over to Aaron's house and after a moment's hesitation, rang the doorbell which was answered a moment later by Aaron.

"Right on time! Come on in. Now what's so important you couldn't tell me on the phone?" Aaron Shore was an even six feet tall with sandy blond hair that was just beginning to recede despite the fact that he was sixty – eight years old, two years older than Gowan Shore.

Alan had been thinking ever since he had gotten into the car with Denny how he was going to broach the subject, but he could think of no delicate way to do it, so he just blurted out, "I know that you, Scott and Gowan are my half – brothers which means that Braden Shore, the man I thought was my grandfather, is in fact, my father. It's true, isn't it?"

Aaron had led the way into the kitchen and indicated that Alan sit at the table. He opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of scotch and two glasses. "A story like this needs alcohol," he said as he poured drinks. He took a sip and said, "Yes, it's true. I know and Scott knows, too. It's not a pretty story."

"Did my fa, I mean, did Gowan know?"

"Not at first. He thought you were his kid. Your mother and I were good friends. She trusted me. She told me that one night, she and Gowan were at my parents' house. My mother was very active in the parish church and every Thursday evening, she and some of the women from the Ladies' Auxiliary would head over there to clean it. This particular Thursday, my father had been drinking in celebration of his favorite rugby team winning a championship. He looks at his watch and tells Gowan he's too drunk to drive the forty minutes there and back to get my mum so he should go get her. Gowan says okay and leaves." He stopped speaking and stared at Alan.

Alan felt like he had been poleaxed. "Are you not saying what I think you're not saying?"

"He forced himself on her; yes, he did. She told me that when it was all said and done, he blamed it on the alcohol and begged her not to tell Gowan or my mother. Gowan idolized our father and she didn't want to be the cause of a rift between them, so she kept quiet. She found out she was pregnant a month later."

Alan pushed his drink aside as he was feeling nauseous. "But they were married! I assume they had a sex life. How could she know it was Braden's child and not Gowan's?"

"From what she told me, Gowan was putting in a lot of hours at his job when they first got married because he was determined to buy a house for them, so they weren't, well, they weren't as intimate as they would have liked. Alan, I know you'll find this hard to believe, but there was a time when your parents were deeply in love and happy with each other. When your mom realized she was pregnant, she made it her business to make time to make love to her husband, so when she told him she was pregnant, he would have no idea it wasn't his child. When you arrived a month 'premature,' he accepted it. In those days, men weren't in the delivery room and none of us knew what a premature baby was supposed to look like, so we were all fooled."

"So, when did Gowan, you and Scott find out the truth?"

"Your mother confessed to Gowan when you were around two or three. Gowan had wanted 'another' child. He wanted a daughter and he couldn't understand why they weren't conceiving. He wanted them to go to a doctor to see what the problem was. That's when she broke down and told him the whole truth about the rape, the cover up and that she had had a tubal ligation because she couldn't bear the thought of birthing children by her husband _and_ his father."

"Alan, my brother, oh God, I mean _our_ brother was devastated. He dragged your mother to our parents' house and I thank God to this day that my mother wasn't there. Your mother said there was a physical confrontation and lots of screaming. Our father was begging Gowan not to tell his mother, it would kill her, he said. Gowan finally agreed not to tell, but that destroyed his relationship with your mother and our father."

"I didn't find out any of this until about five years before your mother died. She and Gowan had had a horrible fight. He had slapped her repeatedly and when he tried to get into your room to hurt you, she got in between you and he hit her some more. I received this hysterical phone call and by the time I got to the house, he was gone. She told me the entire story then."

Alan's mind was reeling. "I don't understand. Why didn't he divorce her? Why did he stay and make us all miserable?"

"Because a divorce would have shamed our mother in front of her whole church. She was a very devout Catholic. Gowan didn't want that; he knew that if he filed for divorce she would want to know why and he couldn't bear the idea of her knowing what her husband did to his wife. So, he stayed and suffered and made you all suffer. I'm so sorry, Alan. I hoped you would never find any of this out. None of this is your fault."

Anger was roiling through Alan's consciousness like a physical thing. He could swear his very soul was in an uproar. It needed to go somewhere, he had to focus the anger somewhere before he spontaneously combusted. It finally narrowed down to a single entity. "No," he growled in a deep voice he barely recognized as his own, "it's not my fault. This is _Braden's_ fault. I know he's in a nursing home. What's the address?"

"I don't blame you, Alan, but you need to know that he's not just in a nursing home, it's a memory care facility. Our father has Alzheimer's, he probably won't know you, let alone what you're talking about."

Alan stood up, drained his glass and put it on the table. "I don't care. Where is he?"


	5. Chapter 5

Dave pulled up in front of the Boston, Massachusetts Memory Care Facility located on Longwood Avenue not too far from Beth Israel Medical Center. "We're here, Sir," he said before getting out to open the door for Alan. "Alan" was what he usually called his employer's best friend, but when he had returned to the coffee shop and gotten in the car, he had barked out an address and Dave swallowed his greeting, entered the address into his phone and silently began to drive. In all the time he had known Alan Shore, he had never seen him this furious. He was just glad that fury wasn't directed towards him.

"Wait here," Alan said as he exited the limo. "I don't know how long I'll be."

He walked into the building and up to the Reception Desk. "I'm here to visit Braden Shore. My name is Alan Shore."

The young woman replied, "Yes, Mr. Shore. Your brother called to tell us to expect you and add your name to the visitors' list. Here's your pass, Mr. Shore. Your father is in room 323. Take the elevator on your right."

When he arrived at room 323, he stood outside the closed door for several moments wondering what he was going to say. He really didn't know. All he knew was that he wanted to make this man pay somehow for the anguish he had caused him and his parents. He startled when the door opened and a woman nearly bumped into him. "I beg your pardon," he said, "I thought he was alone."

"He is now. I'm an orderly and I just gave him a bath. He's watching TV right now, but I'm sure he'll want some company. I have to warn you: He's a bit confused today, so please don't be too upset if he doesn't recognize you. Enjoy your visit," she said.

Alan tapped on the door before entering and saw his grandfather (no, _father_!) sitting in a recliner chair watching "The Price is Right." Braden Shore, now eighty – seven years old, was bald except for a little tuft of white hair where his hairline used to be. He seemed to be quite thin; his clothes seemed too big for him. "Hello. Do you know who I am?"

The man acted as if he hadn't heard Alan. Finally, he shifted his eyes away from the TV to look at his visitor and his eyes grew wide with recognition. His right hand dug around him and came up with the remote which he used to cut the TV off. Struggling to stand, he walked closer to Alan and said, "Do I know who you are? Of course, I know!" He threw his arms around Alan and pulled him into a tight hug. "Why wouldn't I recognize my own son? Gowan, my boy! You came, you finally came! Aaron said you weren't coming, but I knew you'd come! I knew it! I have so much to tell you!" He broke the embrace and led Alan to the window seat. "Sit, sit."

Alan sat down. Part of him wanted to correct the man and tell him he wasn't Gowan, but he knew from his own experience with Denny that could cause more harm and disorientation, so he decided to play along. "Yes, I'm here. What do you want to tell me?" To his astonishment, the man started to cry.

"Oh, Gowan, I'm so sorry! I have something to tell you that's going to hurt and it's killing me to tell you, but I know I'll be meeting my Maker soon enough and I want to stand before Him with a clear conscience. Do you remember the night you and your lovely bride came to visit and I sent you to pick up your mum from the church?"

"Yes." Alan handed him the box of tissues that was on the night stand. Braden took one and wiped his eyes.

"I loved your mum, Gowan, I loved her and we made three beautiful babies together, but after Scott was born, she told me she was done with all that 'foolishness' as she called it and wouldn't let me near her in that way. I tried to explain to her that I was only in my forties and I had needs, but she would hear none of it. She used to say that she was too busy raising kids to have those urges and if I devoted myself to our family, I would feel the same way."

"That night, after you left to get your mum, I was having a pleasant conversation with your wife. She was so pretty; I just wanted a wee kiss from her. She was walking past me to go to the kitchen and I grabbed her wrist and pulled her down onto my lap. We were both laughing, but when I leaned in to kiss her, she stopped laughing and told me to let her up. Gowan, I'm so ashamed to say that I did let her up, but I followed her into the kitchen. I told her your mum wanted nothing to do with me in that way and then I, I…I couldn't stop myself. I knew I was wrong, but I couldn't stop myself!"

"After I was finished, she ran to the bathroom and locked herself inside. I begged her to come out and not tell you what had happened because I knew you would tell your mum and it would kill her. I promised I would never do it again. She came out only because she could see your headlights turning into the driveway."

When you told us that you two were having a baby, your mother was thrilled of course, but I wondered if the baby could be mine. I went to your house while you were at work one day and asked her point – blank whose child it was and she said it was mine. She told me she didn't want me around her or the baby. She told me that when she gave birth, she was having her tubes tied so she couldn't get pregnant again. I'm so sorry, Gowan! Because of me, you never had a child of your own!"

"I know you must have wondered why I made excuses for why I never visited with your mother. I couldn't visit, your wife didn't want me there. As Alan grew, he looked so much like you, I knew my secret would be safe. He was such a sensitive, bright child. I loved him so much, as much as I loved you, Scott and Aaron. When your marriage went sour, it killed me that Alan suffered. I went to your wife once and asked if I could take Alan for the summer, but she said no."

"I am so proud that Alan became a lawyer and a famous one, at that. I feel like God has forgiven me for my horrible transgression by making Alan the kind of man who wants to do good in this world. What I need from you now, Gowan, is your forgiveness. I am so sorry, Gowan. What I did was unforgiveable, but I'm asking anyway. Please, my son, please grant the dying wish of an old man and forgive me. I don't think I can see your mother again without your blessing." Braden moved closed and hugged Alan again. "Please, son," he whispered, "please forgive the unforgiveable."

The anger that Alan had felt when he entered the facility had fallen away to be replaced with pity for the old man clinging to him. "I forgive you, Father, and for what it's worth, I'm sure Alan forgives you, too." He hugged the man back and they stayed that way until Alan cleared his throat and pulled away. "Listen, Da, I'm going to go. Thank you for telling me the truth of what happened. I, I know it must have been hard for you to come clean."

"You're a good man, Gowan. I want you to know: I love you. I have always loved you and even though I didn't visit him, I loved Alan, I always did. I'm glad he's in the world."

Alan stood and help his father to stand. He led him back to the recliner chair and before helping him sit, he hugged Braden again. "I was really angry, but I thank you for telling me the truth. Goodbye, Father." He settled Braden into the chair and then left.

He didn't check the time until he was back in the backseat of the limo.

"Where to, Sir?"

"It's after three, let's go home to the suburbs. And I'm over it, Dave. Call me Alan, but I'm raising the privacy panel."

"I'll have you home quickly, Alan. I'm glad you're in a better frame of mind." The only response he got was the sound of the privacy panel rising.


	6. Chapter 6

Denny checked his phone and saw that Alan had texted telling him he was on his way. He acknowledged Alan's text and asked how his day had gone. The silence from his phone was deafening. He tried to call and got an "I can't talk right now" text message. Concerned, he called Dave's phone.

"Hi, Mr. C., what can I do for you?

"Is Alan in the car with you? He's not answering my texts or my call."

"He's back there," he said quietly, "He raised the privacy panel so he can't hear me. I don't know what went on with him today, but when he got in the car the first time, he looked mad enough to commit murder and when we left the second place, he was, he just…looked _defeated._"

"All right, thanks for telling me. When you let him out, tell him I'll be upstairs. Drive carefully."

"Will do, Mr. C.," he said just before the call disconnected.

Denny called his Major Domo, Rodeo, and told him to put together a tray of cheeses, crackers, and charcuterie and take it up to the master bedroom and place it in the mini -fridge along with a bottle of red and a bottle of white wine. Alan loses his appetite when he is very stressed and Denny had a feeling that he was very stressed, indeed.

When Rodeo informed him that the tray was in the room, Denny headed upstairs to await Alan's arrival. He had so many questions. What was the second place Dave mentioned and why did Alan go there? What did his former uncle now half – brother Aaron tell him? Why did he look defeated to Dave? He had walked into one of the guest bedrooms that overlooked the driveway and saw the car entering the property. _I guess I'll have my answers soon enough._

He went into the master bedroom and opened the armoire that was used for his bar. He poured two glasses of scotch neat and placed them on the table next to one of the windows. He sat in one of the chairs and after a few moments, he heard footfalls on the stairs and then, Alan walked into the room and looked at him.

"Denny…," Alan said, "Denny…"

Denny got up and went to his friend who, finally feeling safe, broke down in tears. Swiftly moving past him to shut the door, he came back and pulled the younger man into a hug. He slowly moved to the bed and sat them both down. "It's okay, Alan," he soothed as he rubbed Alan's back. "It's okay. Let it all out, it's okay. I'm here," he repeated until Alan stopped sobbing and got a tissue to blow his nose. "Tell me."

Alan recounted his day from the moment he arrived at Aaron Shore's door to the moment he left Braden Shore's room. All the while, Denny listened silently and occasionally rubbed Alan's arm in sympathy. "Denny, I wanted so badly to beat that man for what he did to my mother and what he did to Gowan, but when he mistook me for Gowan and begged his forgiveness, I couldn't. He looked so frail; I don't think he's going to be here much longer. I couldn't stay angry, all I felt was pity for him. He ruined the lives of people he loved."

"I know, kid, I know. Have you eaten since breakfast?"

When Alan shook his head _no, _Denny pulled the tray out of the fridge. "Have some of this; you'll feel better with something in your stomach." When he saw the look on Alan's face, he held up his hand. "I know, I know. You're not hungry, but that's why I had these snacks prepared. You need to eat." He was pleased when Alan picked up a mini – brie and opened it. "Good. Red or white wine, or scotch?"

Alan had gotten up and begun to undress. "White, please," he said before going into the bathroom. Stripping off his underwear, he turned on the shower and got in. He felt like the stress of the day was sliding off his body and running down the drain. He put both hands against the front of the shower, bent his head under the water and let it run over his head and down his back. It felt so good, he wanted to stay in there forever, but emerged after almost thirty minutes. He wrapped a towel around his waist and used a smaller one to get the excess moisture out of his hair. When he stepped out of the bathroom, the cool air in the bedroom made him feel refreshed.

"I was starting to worry about you," Denny said, "You were in there so long."

Alan pulled a clean nightshirt over his head and tossed the towel back into the bathroom. "The cheese needed to get closer to room temperature, so I figured I'd indulge myself," he said as he picked up the brie he had opened earlier, took a bite and then a sip of Pinot Grigio. "You talk about me; have _you_ eaten since breakfast?"

"Of course! You know I'm trying to make lunch my biggest meal of the day! I ate a steak with mashed potatoes and a salad. That way, I can pretend that I using the rest of the day to work it off. This snack is perfect." To illustrate his point, he picked up a slice of soppressata and popped it into his mouth followed by a sip of Merlot. "Ah, perfect," he sighed with pleasure.

The two men watched a movie and ate and drank in an easy silence until Alan checked the time and said, "It's almost ten – thirty. I'm turning in." He gathered the remnants of the meats and cheeses and put them back in the fridge. He drained his wine glass and put it in the armoire before taking Denny's empty glass from him to place it next to his. He settled into bed while Denny turned off the TV and the lamp. He met his unlikely bed partner in the middle and got into his regular sleep position; head on Denny's chest. He sighed with contentment as Denny squeezed him for a moment before relaxing his arms. "Denny, you want to know what helped me keep it together while I was at Aaron's house and when I was with Braden?"

"What?"

"Last night, when I saw what the DNA report said and I was so upset, you said, 'I've got you' and I believed it. That simple statement grounded me. I knew that whatever insanity I uncovered today, I was going to come back here and our friendship was going to see me through. The way it always does. I can't imagine my life without you in it as my best friend. I love you, Denny, so much. _You _are my family."

"I know you love me; I love you, too. I'm still not having sex with you, though."

Alan chuckled and snuggled closer. "I'll learn to live with my disappointment."


End file.
